Vroom Vroom
by borntodie20
Summary: '"Nice ass. Eric Northman sends his compliments." And Eric Northman was a true dick.' Eric was the boy in high school who made Sookie's school years a living hell to endure, and ever since then, he still remains to do so. He wanted her then, and he wants her still. How far is he willing to go to get her? All Human. Lemons.
1. Cruel to be Kind

**True Blood and SVM belongs to its respective owners. This is my first fanfiction, I'm a very huge fan of the books and show. My writing isn't very good, but I'm hoping you might find some enjoyment and interest in reading more. There will be flashbacks of high school, some teasing and revenge schemes, a nerdy Bill Compton, and more.**

* * *

_**Vroom Vroom**_

My best friend, Pam, rang me up at 8.30 in the morning and forced me into going out dancing and drinking with her later tonight. Little had I known, just what she had in store for me. Least said about it, the better. She approached it in a very cunning method.

"We're going out tonight. You, me."

"Pam, not tonight..." I groaned.

"Oh, come on. Stop being a whining little bitch, and get your glad-rags on. We're going out to party 'till the break of dawn! No exceptions!"

"Pam, I'm too old for this!"

"Nonsense," she hissed out vehemently. "I am two years older than you, you're just a baby." A baby at twenty-five? Ha-ha. "It's not gonna kill you to go out and have fun, every once in a while." There was a weird noise on the other line, a beeping, and then, she let loose a vicious stream of curses."Oh, fuck! Did I mention?" Exasperatedly, I held the phone away from my ear, because I knew what was coming. "You have to put a little more effort in tonight, because I called up the guy's!"

"The guy's?" _Oh, God. This definitely wasn't good._ "Which guys?"

"Maybe your brother," she admitted ruefully. I moaned._ Last thing I wanted was to see my promiscuous brother out on the town._ "And then there is Alcide." Her voice dropped, until she was whispering it out so quietly, I had to strain my ears to hear her properly. "And maybe... _somebody else_."

"Who?" Really, it needn't to have been asked. I already knew.

"I might have called, uh, The Love of Your Life. The One."

"Oh, Pam!" I shouted. "You didn't!"

"Sorry, honey. I did. And when I clarified you were going, let's just say he almost suffered a fatal embolism. You two really need to hook up again! What's it gonna take to make you realize he has wanted you _ever since_ that day in high school when he called you a lesbian?"

I'll surmise it simply: A few months ago, after too many shots, much to my mortification, I got drunk as a skunk, and woke up in a very strange bed next to a snoring stranger. And not just _any_ stranger, but a fellow I used to know back in high school. His name was Eric Northman, and we never got along very well. Saying we never got along very well, was really understatement of the century. We were mortal enemies, and I hated his guts. And... I'm pretty sure, he hated _mine_. In fact, on a few occasions in high school, I'm pretty sure he was the main culprit responsible of spreading malicious rumours around the entire student body that I was a lesbian, which I'm _not_, and I had the half-naked pin-up boy posters on my wall back then to prove it.

Ever since that Drunken Mistake, whenever I mysteriously ran into him, he never tired of reminding me that I slept with him and, according to _him_ anyhow, I apparently declared that I had a major thing for him in high school. Which I'm pretty sure is just plain, utter bull-crap to get me riled up.

I knew the main reason Pam was pushing me to go out with her tonight, was because there was the possibility of running into Eric, who she often referred to as 'The One And Only, For Sookie' which was very delusional of her. The fact I had to be inebriated before I could do anything sexual with him, just proves there is nothing between us. Everytime I so much as thought about him, and that cocky expression he often wore whenever he ran into me, I shuddered all the way down to my toes in disgust. I believed all that was a good enough reason as any to avoid the wicked man at all costs.

"Uh, Pam. I'm actually kind of...busy."

"With _what_? Doing your washing? Watching Buffy re-runs? What?"

"Uh, well..." I panicked wildly, then started thinking about various ways I could make up an excuse not head out with her. What the hell could I say I was doing? My mind was shooting blanks, because she had already named and shamed every other excuse I had used previously in the past two months. "I actually... have some things I need to get done. Very, very important things."

"Like?" She prompted dryly. _Goddamn her!_

"Umm..." I had clearly hesitated for too long. She laughed loudly on the other line.

"Oh, Sookie. I totally see straight through you! What's the worst that can happen with you running into Eric Northman again?"

_Oh, boy. Did she honestly need to ask?_ "Hmm, I don't know, Pam," I murmured, heavy on the sarcasm. "So _many_ painful things. I've learned from experience- and _trust me_ on this- that Eric Northman revels in making me feel like worthless gum stuck on his shoes- even after _all_ this time! Last week, I happened to run into him while doing my grocery shopping and, you know what he did?"

Luckily for me, Pamela was all ears. She was a great friend, in that respect. She was a wonderful listener."What'd he do? Call you a lesbian again?"

I grimaced. "Close, but not close enough. He cornered me in the, uh... frozen food aisle."

"_Ooh_. Sounds kinky."

"Well, it wasn't," I told her briskly. "It was... freezing. And he wouldn't get out of my way. He mentioned all this nonsense about going out to dinner, and... maybe a few things about that terrible night shared between us, and the ever awkward morning-after conversation that just keeps on replaying in my head like a sickening video-tape."

"Like I said, what's the worst that can happen? You're coming with me tonight, because that's what friends do!" And, at that, she hung up brutally. I was left with the troubling conclusion that if I backed out tonight, it would potentially slaughter our friendship. Pam was murderous in cutting a person down to size like that.

* * *

It was a horror of an afternoon with figuring out what to wear.

After artful consideration, I donned a tight white, frilly shirt and cut-off denim shorts, with the most comfortable high heels I could find. I got to the nightclub a little late, because the nausea I felt made its savage reappearance, when, first motorbike I saw parked by the side of the road when I pulled in, belonged to none other than A-Hole Eric Northman himself.

You could totally tell he was fastidious about the state of his Harley-Davidson; Some men were obviously anal like that, about their cars, bikes, whatever.

They treated their machines as though they were their most prized and precious possessions. In all the other times I had seen his bike out and about, it always appeared so immaculate and meticulously shined. It took what little restraint and self-control I had from ramming my truck into the back of it wickedly to knock it over, when I pulled in and found a parking space. When I slid out of the car and applied my lipstick, I had another bitter idea of running the sharpest edge of my set of keys into the glossy black paint. I found I could be an utter vindictive bitch whenever it came to Eric Northman. Never had I ever felt that way before, towards anyone... _except for Eric Northman_. I guess that alone attested to how much I despised the man, and how much he managed to succeed in getting underneath my skin where it hit hurtful the most, when being in his disagreeable company.

As I went inside, I sought out and watched Pam while she stood at the bar resignedly. Clearly, she had already begun partying without me, and she was halfway through downing what looked like an extremely lethal tequila shot.

"Sookie, you bitch!" She literally growled like a saucy cat in greeting, once she noticed my late arrival. "You're late, so I had to start without you! Don't worry though, I got a few shots in on your behalf!"

She came staggering over towards me in a very worrying way in her high heels, and flung her arms around me in a tight grip. She managed to burp, kiss me sloppily on the cheek, and get grimy lipstick over my cheek, all at the same time. She had also been effective in making me feel guilty over my tardiness.

"God, I'm sorry I'm late!" I managed to return the hug awkwardly. "I had some... things to do. I might have also... got lost. I couldn't, uh, remember how to get here, actually." My excuses were coming up pitiful tonight.

"Lost? Bullshit!" She cackled into my shoulder, drunkenly loud. "Anyway. The boy's are here. Let's go!"

She grabbed me by the hand and, obediently, I allowed her to drag me along to a side-table.

"She got lost!" she announced to my cad of a brother, Jason, who murmured disinterestedly. He was staring at something - or someone across the room dopily- and when I followed the line of his gaze, I ought to have already known just what had his interest for the night. My brother was about as slutty as a man could get, and he had his eyes planted predatory on some skinny, tanned number for the evening.

I rolled my eyes, and laughed, when Alcide rose to his feet clumsily, managing to knock a few bottles over the table in his wake, at the sight of me.

"Sookie! Long time, no see! Get your fine ass over here and say hello!"

"_Oof_," I whimpered, when he threw his arms around me and engulfed me into a super tight and enthusiastic hug. His big hands also roamed downwards, until he groped my butt cheekily.

"You're looking great," he said, very appreciatively, in his gruff, deep voice. I beamed up at him, feeling loads better. I was definitely under dressed, by Pam's standards. She was wearing a slinky, strapless red shimmering dress that hugged her body and showed off all her womanly goods.

"Thank you," I whispered, touched. "You're looking pretty good yourself." And he certainly was; He was wearing a plaid red lumberjacks shirt, tucked into tight faded denim jeans. He could have done well with a shave, though; When he kissed me on the cheek chastely, his beard scratched me painfully. "Jesus, Alcide! It wouldn't hurt you to shave every once in a while!"

"I know, I know," he mumbled, embarrassed. He lifted a hand to run his fingers over his beard ruefully. "But Debbie likes me this way. Who am I to go against anything that makes my girl happy?"

Debbie and Alcide had been dating for over four months now, and I had only met her once. She seemed very quiet and reserved, very sweet, the time I had met her. But whenever they were going through some silly lover's tiff, he would tell me all the things she had said to him, and, I learned, she had the mouth of a sailor on her.

"How's life been treating you lately? You been good?" At that, whether he realized he was doing it or not, his hands reached down and squeezed my ass again.

"Alcide, hands_ off_," I scolded playfully. "What would Debbie think of all this?"

He went red underneath his unshaven face, and lifted his hands in the air. "You're absolutely right. Sorry, darling." He looked behind my shoulder, and his embarrassment increased. "Oh, shit! Seemed you warned me just at the right time, too! You know what'll happen if you hadn't!"

"Debbie's here?" I asked hopefully. I had truly wanted to meet her again, and get to know her. I whirled around excitedly.

Instead, what I got, was a flicker of the utter humiliation I always felt whenever I was peering into the devilish eyes of none other than appalling Eric Northman himself.

The evil man, the devil's reincarnation in human form himself- was standing tall over us- scrunitizing me in my clothes. No doubt he had witnessed Alcide's less than friendly ass-groping of me, if he had in fact been standing around us after all that time.

"Northman," Alcide greeted, with a manly inclination of his head. The Devil dragged his eyes to Alcide, and returned it wordlessly. "Say, you... uh, you know Sookie, right? Jason's little beauty of a sister?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he said, turning to me, attempting what seemed a stiff, scheming smile. The Devil was all for nefarious games and cruel ploys. "And _well_. No doubt, better than you ever will." He laughed, in quite a cruel and secretive way. Then, he went on more seriously, in that deep and throaty voice of his, like he truly cared to know, "How are you, Sookie?"

"Humph," I grunted rudely, deciding it best not to give him any fuel to add to the fire.

Eric was one of those blonde-haired, blue-eyed creeps, and he was frighteningly tall- at around over six-feet in height. He was wearing an offensively tight V-neck shirt in a military green shade that seemed to cling to every inch of him, and an unbuttoned, long black overcoat that slung loosely off his shoulders. He was also wearing tight and holey dark denim jeans and biker boots. Not that I really noticed, nor cared what he was wearing, of course. _Gross sexy._ That was Eric Northman; Advocate for the gross sexy look.

"Uhm. Cool."

I was aware of Alcide becoming intimidated by Eric's presence; Eric often did that to a man. Both sexes, really. _Myself_ included. He slid back into his seat like a desperate man, eager to get away, leaving me standing there aimlessly, on edge and nervous around Eric Northman. I watched sourly as he threw himself into humoured conversation with Pam, who was fluttery and flushed pink from however many drinks of alcohol she had consumed before I had arrived.

I was vaguely aware out of the corner of my eye that Eric had shifted closer to my side; his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his coat. "Hey, Sookie." I squared my shoulders and pursed my lips; braced and ready for the instance some snide comment flew out from his mouth. But surprisingly, it never came. "Did you come here in your car?"

"Indeed, I did," I replied shortly, keeping my eyes on Pam, who was gesticulating wildly with her hands to Alcide.

"Pity. Because, I, ah..." _Oh, here it comes_. "...I could have driven you home later on my bike. You might have even enjoyed that."

I racked my brains frantically for any smart comeback I could use. All I could manage was: "Yeah, right. In your dreams. I'd rather die, than get on the back of that death machine with you."

Much to my dismay, it had the opposite effect I was hoping for. Instead of deflating his mood in some way, rather instead, he chuckled gently. I shuddered involuntary at the sound. "Death machine?" He sounded astounded. "Sure, I do like to ride her hard and fast, but you'd be safe with me. I wouldn't ever dream of going over the limit with you."

I expressed a derisive laugh of my own over that. "It's a bit too late for that, Eric. I think you already crossed that limit over... oh, say... that dreadful morning I woke up in your bed and your arms were wrapped around me."

"Ah. Well, for the record, you were begging me to take you home to my house for the night. It wasn't my idea. Not that I had my objections, of course."

Oh, for God's sake.

"Well, just so you know, it's never, ever gonna happen again. I was drunk and, _obviously_, I lacked good judgement and clear reasoning. That was the only reason why I did... what I did that night."

Completely out of the blue, I felt his hand close over my elbow, and he ran his thumbnail down my forearm. I shivered. I felt him lean in until his mouth was so close to my ear, I could feel his ragged and warm breaths. "I won't be waiting long, Sookie." A mischievous laugh bubbled up inside the back of his throat. "After all, there is always the next time you wind up drunk. Which, no doubt, will be fairly _shortly_."

I resolved then, that for the rest of my life, I would stick to non-alcoholic beverages in the future if that truly were the case, as he was saying.

"Never," I repeated firmly, through gritted teeth. "I'd rather die."

His hand never loosened from my arm. I felt his mouth close over my earlobe as he bent down behind me; his lips tickling, his unshaven chin scratching, as he spoke in a hushed murmur, "Aren't we a bit old for all of this high school animosity? Whatever I did to you back then, that caused you to feel the need to treat me this way... is history now."

"To _you_, perhaps. I will never forgive you for what you did in spreading all those rumours 'round the school about my sexuality! It is downright unforgivable!"

"Oh, yes. I remember that now." Eric's voice was sardonic, and I could tell that, inwardly, he was laughing over that hurtful incident all over again. It might have been a joke to him, but it stung me, at the time. I was far from a lesbian, and I just couldn't understand how somebody could be so cruel as to spread such a lie. "The infamous Sookie Stackhouse Is A Raging, Full-Blown Lesbian rumour, where everybody believed it so easily."

I could feel my face turning bright red in all the anger I was trying so hard to suppress. My hands balled into fists painfully, my nails digging into my palm. I wanted to slap him so hard. I never got the chance to do that in high school... but I still had the chance right now. He wouldn't have even known what hit him.

"Tell me, Sookie. How many chances of finding a decent date did that compromise?" He was breathing down my neck. "If I rightly remember, you had half the lesbian girls at school lining up eagerly for a chance. No boys, after that. They were all frightened away."

He was so close, all I had to do was take a forceful swing. Responsibly, I turned vocal instead. "Why did you do that, Eric?" I was almost shouting uncontrollably. "Just to show how much of a piece-of-shit asshole you _truly_ are?" Sure, that was a bit harsh. I knew it myself.

I jerked my arm away and shoved my face into his, trying to appear as intimidating as possible.

All he did, was blink down at me impassively.

"You _know_ why I did it."

"No." I shook my head violently. "I _don't_ know why you did it, _at all_. Did I really..." I ground my teeth together, feeling my anger building with such sheer ferocity it was frightening. "Did I _truly_ seem like a lesbian to _you_?"

He ran a hand through his slicked back hair, then palmed his forehead, exasperated. "You _know_ why I did it. Hasn't anyone ever fucking told you about, you know..." His jaw clenched, and suddenly that anger was directed right back at me. Our faces were so close together, our noses almost touching. We were having a serious head-butting session here. "When you're a kid and you... Like boy's teasing girls... because they..." He paused and couldn't seem to say it. And then, he blurted it out, with a hard glare, "... are attracted to them?"

"What?"

"For fucksake, Sookie!" He closed his eyes, and his jaw was twitching crazily. A vein was pulsing in his forehead. "I... was attracted to you. Boys teasing girls because they liked them. I... I am in love with you, Sookie." Clearly, he hadn't meant to let slip that much information, because he covered a hand over his mouth, and his eyes flitted open and widened in sheer terror. "Ever since freshman year. It was idiotic what I did, yes. But it worked. No boys approached you, I had you all to myself. It was the... only way to get you alone."

I gasped, as the full weight of his words finally sunk in. It was worse than I could have imagined. I wouldn't have minded so much, if he had only simply done it to be a mean asshole. But... because he was_ attracted_ to me? Because he- he was_ in love with me?_

"The fuck!" I squealed, in disgust.

And then, before I could get firm hold of myself, I was slapping him on the cheek. I could tell it was a pretty decent hit, because my palm stung afterwards, and his cheek reddened from the contact.

It was like the world screeched and halted at that moment in time. All I saw, was something wet gathering around his eyes, and then a chair was being knocked over and, next thing we all knew, with a loud '_umph_', Pam was falling headfirst at my feet.

"Oh, my God!" I whispered shakily, over both the shock at Pam's descent, and at hitting Evil Eric. It was hardly satisfying in the slightest. "I am so sorry, I cannot believe I just did that!" I cried at him apologetically, half crouching over Pam to help her to her feet, and half twisting my face around to declare it straight into his face. "Pam?" She was lying motionless, and her body felt limp and heavy, when I wrenched her up by the forearms. Her head dipped into her chest, and her mouth was hanging wide open, her eyes tightly closed. "Pam?" I shook her gently, then next thing I knew, there was Alcide lying her out on the ground and Jason scrambling from his seat to get a cold cloth. "Alcide, is she breathing?"

He touched her neck, checking for a pulse. Then, with relief, I saw his face collapse into itself in gratitude. "She is. I think maybe she just had a bit too much to drink, Sookie."

"Well, no shit," I huffed out, breathlessly. Jason returned and applied the cloth gently over her forehead, and she stirred. I felt all the fear instantly leave my body, when she stirred sleepily and mumbled a few curse words.

I peered up at Eric, only to be met with a stranger's face I did not recognize. I examined the room, only he was nowhere to be seen; My stomach sank. I really wanted to apologize over my cruel and violent behaviour, only I couldn't even do that, because he was gone.

"Sookie." Alcide's urgent voice broke me out of my stressing. "I think she better stay with you for the night. Think you better head on home. She fainted, obviously."

"Of course." I tried to push aside the sadness I felt, and guilt, and instead, worked into attempting to move Pam out of the club and into my car. It was difficult, and Alcide had to help me, by nursing most of her weight. Her hand was clammy when I grabbed onto it, and she kept mumbling underneath her breath.

Outside into the parking lot, it was then I saw him again.

He was sitting perched on the leather seat of his motorbike. He was watching us, and he seemed relieved himself, when he took in that Pam was going to be just fine. He didn't look at me, at first; Perhaps he was too angry, and really, I couldn't exactly blame him. Alcide helped me heave Pam into the seat of my car, and I turned to hug him goodbye tightly. Unfortunately for me, I caught Eric watching on this time. His motorbike roared to life thunderously, but I could tell, judging by his expression alone, that he wasn't as mad as I had first thought. His eyes softened, and his expression warmed, when he held my gaze above Alcide's shoulder intently. He gave me a sly little wink, before his expression straightened grimly. It was like with his look and that little wink alone, he was reassuring me that my slap was forgiven. I managed a weak smile, and then he nodded briskly, looked away, and then he was out of the parking lot; speeding away with the sound of the loud motorbike's engine humming away in my ears.

All in all, I learned some very insightful things tonight; One, that I was capable of being violent and hurtful to another person, if my irritated heart was in it. Two; That Pam should avoid alcohol more at all costs, and that she'd be having a hang-over from hell come morning. And thirdly; One that made my skin feel hot and a warm flush spring all over, that Eric Northman maybe didn't despise me as much as I assumed he had, in high school. No, he- what was his words?

_He was in love with me. All along._


	2. How it All Began

**True Blood and SVM belongs to its respective owners. This is my first fanfiction, I'm a very huge fan of the books and show. **

**Hoping you will enjoy this one haha! This is how it all began, in high school.**

* * *

Chapter Two

**THEN**

_The Beginning_

_I was late for English, and I knew that for a fact. The first bell had already rang out in the hallway, and I was now utterly deserted, and all by my lonesome. In my defense, it was my first day at starting at Bon Temps High as a Junior, so I was still unfamiliar with directions to classrooms. But somehow, I had managed to find my way. I hesitated, before I entered. My wristwatch told me I was already fifteen minutes late._

_God spare me and have mercy on my young soul._

_"You're late," the teacher commented, without looking away from his writing on the chalkboard._

_"I know, sir." I smiled apologetically at his broad back. "Sorry about that. I just started today."_

_I so thought Mr. Merlotte was going to show me no mercy, but luckily for me, he was a kind-hearted, and decent teacher. He turned to look at me, and I discovered he was quite young. For a teacher, anyhow. About in his early thirties. He had shoulder-length, wavy ruddy hair. "No matter," he said, smiling kindly. "It's your first day. Understandable." I found I already liked him a lot. He was nice. "You go find yourself an empty seat now, and get started on jotting down these notes."_

_I nodded obediently. "Yes, sir. I'll do that." I was keen on making a good impression, since it was my first day, and all._

_I searched around the busy room filled with students to find myself a vacant seat. I found one, and sat, pulling my back pack off my shoulders and slinging it underneath the table, just as the door burst open again loudly, and a guy sauntered into the room carelessly. Something about him instantly made me feel ill at ease, but I couldn't say why that was. I guessed now I just had excellent judgement of character, and knew when I ought to stay far away, and when I shouldn't. He was very tall, with blonde hair, combed back and sleek at the sides. He was wearing an Adidas track-suit jacket, and dark blue denim jeans, with Converse High Tops. Something within just told me to steer away from him like he was a carrier of a deadly plague._

_Mr. Merlotte sighed through his teeth, and fixated his dark grey eyes onto the boy. "Northman, can't say the same for you," he remarked quietly, disappointed. "I don't think you've ever been early a day in your life. What's your excuse this year? Huh?"_

_"I don't have one," the boy said, rather carelessly. "At least, not today." His voice was extremely deep, extremely masculine. "But once I think one up, I'll get back to you on that."_

_The teacher threw his head back and laughed bitterly. "I'm sure you will." The boy just stood there, exuding this type of nonchalance and boredom, hands tucked deeply inside his jean pockets. "Well, don't just stand there! You know what to do. Get yourself a damn seat!"_

_The boy rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he murmured, underneath his breath._

_Sedately, the boy strolled down along the aisle of tables and found himself a vacant seat, across from the table I was sitting. I just couldn't help staring at him, when he unzipped his jacket fluidly and draped it over the back of his chair. He plopped down loudly in the seat with a heavy sigh. And then, he was staring over at me dreamily, with wide and fatigued blue eyes. Oops._

_A little off-guard, I swiftly turned my head and opened my notepad. I made sure never to look at the guy again, at least as much as I could control it. It grew extremely hard, because he started being noisy, almost as if he was insisting attention from somebody. Clearly, the guy liked being noticed and attracting attention; He began drumming his fingers on the desk, super loud, in an irritating rhythm that had me gritting my teeth. And then he began ripping off paper in his notebook, in a deliberately loud and excruciatingly slow way, I thought._

_Something flung over and gently hit the side of my hair. I knew what it was, with no doubts about it. The blood drained from my face, as I brought my eyes back over to the boy reluctantly. I was one hundred percent positive he had flicked a small ball of shredded paper at me just then. What a major creep. I ran my palm over my pony tail, just to check and make certain nothing was stuck in it, self-consciously. His eyes followed the movement of my hand, in a downright mocking way. He was so laughing at me internally, and his mouth twisted in amusement. What a major, total asshole._

_I resisted the intense temptation I felt to stick my tongue out at him, or flip him the rude finger. I couldn't get his deal at all. Instead, I shifted back in my seat and focused my attention on the chalkboard._

_He didn't bother me again by hurling paper balls at me, after that. But even more painful to me, was the unapologetic staring. I looked over to find his big blue eyes had never left me, and they probably wouldn't. He was looking at me with far more scrutiny and intensity, than I thought I deserved. After all, I hadn't done anything wrong to him. I hadn't even spoken a single word to him, no less. I was just an innocent girl trying to get through her first English lesson and make it out alive and unscathed._

_I leaned over in my chair. "Can I help you?" I whispered, quietly but with a sharp edge to tell him he was being very rude._

_"Not really," he said impassively, in a voice equally as quiet as mine. "Unless you want to take your clothes off. Show me what's underneath." His eyes ran down my shirt, in a very suggestive and crude way. I stiffened underneath that look for me. He turned his head slowly, and rested the side of his cheek on his palm, a weird distant look in his eyes. He was smiling to himself widely. Something about him completely irked me the fuck out. "Now that would be the sight, wouldn't it?"_

_"Go to hell," I mumbled stiffly, after a moment of digesting the sheer embarrassment I felt inwardly._

_He laughed softly into his palm. "Well, I'm certainly in it now, with a body like that." I wasn't even sure whether I had heard him correctly or not, but I came to the same-old conclusion as my first impression on this guy told me; I was right. What an insolent, rude asshole. Disgusting. _

_"You need help, buddy."_

_"And you're just a stuck-up bitch," he ground out, between clenched teeth._

_Oh, hell. He did not just call me that!_

_I whirled around in my chair to level a hard glare onto him. "Don't you dare call me stuck-up, bitch," I seethed crazily. Jesus, what was with this asshole? Someone cleared their throat loudly ahead of me, demanding my attention. Oh, bother. Mr. Merlotte was giving me a dangerous look of exasperation from his place near the chalkboard, arms crossed, long white chalk in hand._

_"Hey, now. There will be none of that language here in the classroom," he told me sternly. I almost broke down sobbing. I hated getting into trouble by teachers. "Do you hear me now? You repeat those words in this room, and I will give you a week's detention."_

_"Yes, sir," I whispered sadly. I slumped down into my chair, feeling all these brutal and malicious feelings bubble up to the surface. If anything, I was going to make this guy pay for being so rude to me, and for causing me to get into trouble on my first day. I was not just going to just lie back and take it._

_The bell rang soon after for end of class, and never had I felt so relieved before in my entire life._

_Everyone rose to their seats and collected their belongings in unison, before a long line filled out to exit the classroom. Halfway to the door, I felt it. I felt it and it felt like the worst feeling in the world to me. I saw red, and I felt capable of murdering him, whoever this guy was. Because someone behind me shot a very hard and domineering slap on my backside with the back of their hand, just desiring me to turn around and say a few nasty choice words over it. Hell, he probably might have even enjoyed that. I decided not to give him the satisfaction, and went on, pretending as if it'd never happened to me. It felt easier that way, anyhow._

_Just as I pushed my way out into the corridor, somebody said in my ear, "Nice ass. Eric Northman sends his compliments." And Eric Northman was a true dick._

**_Hope you enjoyed this one? Feel free to let me know. Thanks so much for reading! :) x_**


	3. Hate? Not So Sure

**Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews. Hoping you enjoy this one :-)**

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

Next morning, I could tell Pam was experiencing the worst hang-over of her entire life. Obviously, during the night, she had somehow found her way into my bathroom. She was huddled over the toilet seat in her dress and heels. Poor girl.

"Hey, Pammy," I whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"How do I look?" She turned to meet my gaze, and Jesus, she had massive bags under her eyes. Her voice was so raspy and weak, it almost sounded as if she had coughed up a lung last night. "I feel like shit, Sookie."

_Yeah, and you look it, honey._ I had to bite back that remark. Somehow, it didn't seem helpful telling her that. It would have only made her in a far greater depressed mood. "I can go to the store, and get you a few things. No doubt, you're dehydrated right now."

"Oh, you're a godsend to me, Sookie." She tried to smile, but it seemed too much effort. I felt a deep pang of sympathy flare within, even though she had been entirely responsible for getting herself into this messy state. "Please. I need water. Shit-loads of water. And this headache..." She rubbed her temples miserably.

"Say no more. I'll go straight to the store, and get you a few things. Try to get some sleep."

"That's the problem. I couldn't last night. I kept having to make hourly runs in here. So, eventually, I decided, what the fuck? I slept in here half the night."

"Poor darling. I'll be right back." I smiled at her sympathetically, then raced into my room to get changed. Pam usually never drank so much; But I guess, last night, she felt she deserved to. I wasted no time in getting into my car and driving to the small supermarket a few miles away from my house. Bon Temps is a pretty small, tight-knit community. This was the only grocery store we had in miles.

While it had it perks, living so close to the only grocery store we had here in Bon Temps, it also meant I ran into certain people I didn't care much to see, or interact with. This morning was, obviously no different.

I got inside, all fake smile and cheerful, and went straight over to the wall where the bottes of drinks were cooling away in the refridgerator, completely minding my own business.

It was starting to look like it was going to be a great start to the day. But then somebody leaned against the door, pushing their entire weight on it, preventing me from opening it. How friggen rude. I growled and tried to yank it open, but it was no use. I just wasn't strong enough. For some reason, I glanced up and... I was locked in the intense and amused gaze of none other than A-Hole Eric Northman himself. _Of course, it was him. How typical._ There could only be one man who could be so annoying and dead-set on irritating me.

"Sookie Stackhouse. Fancy seeing you here."

"Oh my God," I gasped, wrenching my hand away from the handle. "You are_ totally_ stalking me! Why else would I frequently run into you every single time I go to the super-market?"

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips over my words, and his eyes were alight with some perverted humourous thought that I didn't even want to begin wondering about. "Actually, I live around this area, as you probably already know," he said, by way of explanation. "But I am flattered you would even start to think I am stalking you." Either way, he wasn't very convincing at all.

You hear about stalkers, and how they mysteriously drop into the same places as you. I had run into Eric at the super-market a little over four times now. It couldn't have been just some mere coincidence, could it? Everytime we ran into one another in the store, he made it his mission to get into my personal space, each and every time. _You had to wonder, though..._

"Oh, you better not be stalking me," I muttered, horrified.

"Perhaps you should come over for dinner tomorrow night?" _There he goes again._ I swear, every time I ran into him, he would do this. He would try to coax me into going out to dinner with him. I could think of many more exciting things I could be doing with my time, than enduring being in the same room as Eric Northman. Too bad he couldn't take a hint. "In fact, the shrine of you in my bedroom closet needs a bit more added to the collection. I'm thinking hair." At this, he reached out and grabbed a handful of my blonde hair, twisting it around with his fingers. Talk about too close for comfort. I couldn't tell whether he was fooling with me or not, and the fact I couldn't made it quite disconcerting. "Or another pair of your underwear, like the ones you left so generously behind the night you stayed over."

I swallowed dryly. And yes, he was most probably right on that. Most embarrassing moment of my entire life, fleeing his apartment like a woman on fire after realizing just who I was in bed next to, and only realizing halfway down the street that I had forgotten to put on my underwear in my haste to escape Eric Northman.

_Heart failure right about now._

"Oh, please. You're lying, right?"

"I am," he admitted sincerely, after a moment of sheer torture and dread on my side. I breathed more easily then. "Trust me. I'm not _that_ fucking weird, Stackhouse."

"Well, I sure hope not." Really, it wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest if he was. "Um, can you move? I'm trying to get some water out for Pam."

"Oh, yes." Thankfully, he pushed his shoulder off the glass and stood behind me. "How is she?" He sounded as if he was actually concerned about Pam on some level. How... nice of him. Who would have ever thought?

"She's better," I told him, grabbing two bottles, just in case. I set them in my basket. "She's been hanging around the toilet all morning, but she's fine, I think. Nothing that a few glasses of water won't be able to fix." I hesitated, looking at him. I was never good with goodbyes, or making up excuses in order to get away from somebody, in general. "Well, bye. I got to get on home now."

"Of course."

With desperation in my stride, I reached down the aisle before I turned back to look at him over my shoulder. He was following closely behind me, damn him. His hands were tucked deeply into the side pockets of his leather jacket, and his eyes were right on me. I tried not to appear like I was urgently running from him, but even I could notice my legs were moving way faster than they usually did. It was probably a dead-giveaway.

Unfortunately for me, we both reached the counter at precisely the same time. Awkward overload. I tried to be polite, in letting him be served first. But clearly he didn't want that.

"After you," he said, gesturing to the counter with one of his hands.

"Thank you," I said, after swallowing down my pride. My voice sounded far too stiff and bitter.

For some reason, I was blushing furiously when the young man behind the counter took his time in scanning my items. Spring water. Headache tablets, for Pam. Tampons... for me. Why was I always setting myself up for embarrassment? Hey, more better question: Why was I feeling embarrassed at all? Getting your monthly flow... it was completely natural. Even Eric Northman would have to be a true jerk to say something about it. But when the young man scanned them, I swear the A-Hole gave out a loud, muffled cough; He was concealing a snicker in there somewhere. I hated him so much.

I paid for my groceries, and without another word, I stormed out of there.

I ran to my car and climbed inside, giving his motorbike a passing glance. I threw the grocery bag into the passenger's seat and started the car. At least, I attempted to start it. For some reason, the engine gurgled and spluttered to life before she conked out into a dead silence. My car was fairly old, yes. But I kept it up to scratch with servicing. I hadn't the slightest idea why she would decide not to work on me now. My car usually ran smoothly, despite her old age. Why did she have to not run on me now?

Could the morning get anymore worse for me than it already was, in running into Eric Northman yet again?

"Come on, honey," I pleaded to her, hoping to coax my car to life. "Please, I will be so good to you. Once I get home, I'll wash you and everything. Just don't do this to me. Especially not now, when I need you!"

Tap, tap.

Oh, shit. I slumped over in the seat, vaguely aware of who was trying to get my attention by rapping their knuckles on the side of my window. Eric Northman was out there, crouching down by my window, so that he could meet my gaze directly through the glass. His eyes were unwavering, his lips curled in amusement. _Heaven help me_. Inhaling in a deep breath, I turned and scrolled my window halfway down with shaky fingers.

"Problem?"

"Yes," I sighed glumly. "My car has just magically decided not to start."

"Oh, no. Don't you just hate that?"

_Yes. Yes, you do._ "I got it serviced just over a month ago, and they told me it was fine."

"I could have a look for you?" he suggested, sounding a bit uncertain. "However, unfortunately, I don't know two shits about cars. Bikes are more my thing."

_Now why doesn't that surprise me? Seriously. _"Yes, I kind of figured you were a bike man," I retorted tartly, "Considering you ride one."

"I can offer you a lift, if you'd like?" He sounded so excited by that prospect. I bet he was just aching for me to ride on the back of that monster machine with him.

"Hell no," I shook my head, fiercely resistant. "I am not getting on the back of that shit-bomb with you! I am not that desperate, thank you very much! And besides, I don't want to be in some morgue waiting to be identified anytime soon."

"_Shit-bomb_?" He scoffed, and pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "Well,_ now_ who's being rude?"

I shrugged, and turned the key in the ignition, hoping for it to come alive. Unfortunately for me, it didn't. Just my luck.

"Well, once you're finally willing enough to accept my offer, I'll be waiting." At that, he turned and walked over to his bike. Sure enough, he did wait on me, for a little over five minutes. He unzipped the case on the back of his bike, shoved his grocery bag inside, and leaned against the bike, crossing his arms over his chest. How odd. That was taking desperation and helpfulness to a new level.

After a few more unsuccessful tries, it became apparent that my car wasn't going to work on me today. Sucking up my pride, I reached around, grabbed my grocery bag and my purse, and stepped out of the car. I locked it up and made sure everything was secure, before I started halfway towards him. I felt like a glum dog with their tail hanging between their legs.

This was a walk of shame, and defeat.

"You know, I could always call for a cab, or a tow truck," I volunteered weakly. I swallowed hard as I surveyed the motorbike's daunting large set of wheels. I've never ridden on a motorbike before and, frankly, I was scared shitless. It probably wouldn't have been half as bad, if I had trusted the driver. Only I didn't trust Eric Northman. Not even a little bit. He was scheming, and a major thorn in my side. He was the least trustworthy person in my eyes.

He sighed, unimpressed, and took my wallet and bag out of my hands. Then, he shoved them in the case, locked it, and climbed on. _No helmets. Excellent_.

"Well?" I could hear the frustration in his voice clear as day. "Are you getting on or not?"

"First, I got a few things to say on this," I began, loudly. "In me getting on this bike, I am _trusting_ you with _my life_ here. You are responsible for whatever happens to me. Oh, and another thing; I _still_ don't forgive you, for _anything_. So don't start thinking me getting on this with you is ever gonna change a single fact about what happened in high school!"

"Just get on the fucking bike, Stackhouse." Well, there. Issue solved.

I climbed on behind him, a bit awkwardly. The seat was comfy enough. However, I was caught in a major dilemma. _Where on earth was I supposed to put my hands? What was I supposed to hold on to?_ A moment next, much to my disliking, he took my hands and guided them over his shoulders, interlacing my fingers underneath his chin. Way too close for comfort, but somewhere... deep down inside, it was maybe a nice feeling, holding on to somebody so sturdy. He kicked down a pedal, and then the roar of the bike was thunderous in my ears. I couldn't hear anything at all.

Wasting no time whatsoever, the bike lurched forward and then we were off.

I screamed. I screamed, super loud and hysterically in his ear, because I wasn't expecting it. I heard him yell something back at me, but I couldn't say I heard at all. I was far too busy screaming and clinging onto him for dear life. Never had I dreamed I would ever be so close to Eric Northman, but this was pretty much as close two people could get; My chin was resting on the side of his shoulder, my mouth was a hair's length from his earlobe, and my breasts were pretty much squashed up against him. In other words, most mortifying moment of my life.

Sure, we might have been closer and intimate at one point. I might have slept with him while drunk one time. I couldn't be sure, though, and I would never ask him if we had. Something told me asking a guy whether you did the deed with him or not was pretty tactless. _If only I could remember..._

It was only when we were down the gravel road towards where I lived, that I started to fully enjoy myself. Something about reaching home and managing to come out alive, was a profoundly gratifying moment for me. It occurred to me then that somehow Eric Northman knew where I lived. I couldn't imagine I would have ever told him where I lived. But... _somehow_, he knew. Everything about him screamed stalker to me at this point. Terrifyingly, I recalled him telling me last night that he was _in love_ with me. Somehow that made him knowing my house address excusable in some odd way.

Once he pulled up into my driveway, and shut off the bike, I was deaf for a few minutes.

There wasn't any graceful way of getting off his bike. I sat for a moment, trying to fix up my windblown hair, suddenly self-conscious. I had to full on grab onto his shoulders and swerve my leg over the seat. That caused me to knee him in the back, and I didn't know how hard it was, but he swore underneath his breath in a very irritated way.

"Thank the Lord I'm still alive today."

He rolled his eyes and climbed off, far more gracefully than me. He had long legs, though, and I didn't. I simply put it down to that.

He turned his back on me silently, while he unlocked the case at the back for my belongings. I go to get my wallet and bag from him, but for some reason, he moved them out of my reach. His other hand grabbed at my arm, and then he lunged down at me, before I had anytime to process what he was doing. His lips went onto mine, and I gasped in surprise. Naturally, he took full advantage, in expertly tilting his head and sliding his warm tongue in my mouth. Jesus, that was forward. Sadly, it did not go past me that he was quite a great kisser. But this was Eric Northman, right here. The guy who was a cruel bully to me in high school. I had never been kissed like this. He just took full control, with no apologies whatsoever, despite whether it was something I actually wanted or not. I went to pull away, my hand reaching out to snatch my belongings out of his, and at least that part of it was successful. I managed to yank my bag from his grip, but then he reached up to grasp the back of my neck, holding me in place.

Why was it always the mean ones that were the best, skilled kissers? So unfair.

"Excuse me," I gasped, agitated. Finally, he let me go, weaving his hand out from the back of my hair. "Well, that was rude." And not at all unpleasant.

_Awkward, much?_

My pulse felt like it was soaring through the hills. I couldn't even breathe properly, no less. He looked like he was having just as much trouble as I was; He breathed out a long, uneven breath through his lips, then licked them.

"Dinner tomorrow," he said decisively, staring at me, his voice husky and deep. "I'll take this as a confirmation."

"Oh, piss off." My voice was just as husky as his, and I hated it.

"Soon, then..." His lips quirked up into a half-smile. I hated his confidence. I hated his cockiness. "You're not fooling anyone, Sookie. I know you want me. You always have, exactly in the way I have wanted you for all these years. And I _will_ have you, if not today. Another time, perhaps."

I made a gagging noise, sticking out my tongue. _Very mature of me, I know. _"Even if we were the last two people on earth, _even then_, I _still_ wouldn't want you."

But then he winked at me, like he had last night, and my heart completely... melted. _Ick._

He shrugged off my words, and climbed back over his bike. "Maybe the next time we run into the grocery store you'll have a change of heart." He sounded as if he was truly hoping on that.

I considered that for a moment, biting down on my tongue. It was hard to know what I was feeling, exactly. Maybe he would be right, maybe he wouldn't? All I knew, as for now, was that_ something_ had changed. I got to thinking maybe Eric Northman wasn't as bad as I thought he was; He could be helpful, at times. He was still downright annoying, though. He was also a great kisser, and maybe I had enjoyed it while it lasted. I still hated him, though, if it even _was_ actually hate I was feeling for the man. Right now, I wasn't so sure...

Dinner all of a sudden didn't seem much of a bad idea, after all.

**Like? Hate? Still interested? Please let me know :-)**


	4. Flirting?

**Thank you all so much, you're all amazing! Thanks for your encouragement!**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Finally," Pam sighed, soon as I got in. "I thought I was going to have to wait forever for you to get in. I saw you, you know."

"You saw me?" I sounded way too guilty.

"Yes." She looked surprisingly happy. "I saw you through the window, making out with your boyfriend."

"Pam," I scolded, rolling my eyes. "For the last time, he is not my boyfriend."

"Well, you could have fooled me. The pair of you looked real comfy shoving your tongue's down each other's throats."

"Pam, stop!" I snapped, then went into the other room; my back purposefully turned from her so she couldn't see my face. "He's... gross." Shit, I didn't even think that anymore. How could something so simple as forcing a kiss onto somebody make them change their opinion of you? It was infuriating.

"Well, obviously not gross enough."

"You know, for somebody who is hung-over, you're sounding quite like your usual pain-in-the-ass self," I told her sarcastically.

"Listen, all I'm saying here, is that it's about time."

"Why is it about time?" I asked her, as dryly as I could manage. She was always saying this stuff, going on about how he was perfect for me.

"Because you want each other," she stated, like it was so damn obvious. It wasn't to me, though. "No matter how hard you try to hide it, just admit there was a side of you that loved all the attention he was giving you in high school."

"How can a girl love attention like that?" I asked her skeptically. "He was a big mean bully, who spread lies that I was gay! How can a girl love that?"

"He was flirting with you."

"Flirting, my ass."

And, just like that, all those haunting memories came bubbling to the surface again...

* * *

_He looked down at my lips and leaned forward and I knew his intentions at once, so I leaned back in disgust. He probably expected girls to kiss him all the time. Hell, he probably tried it randomly on all the girl's at school._

_He looked wounded for half a minute, before he recovered visibly. He raked his hands through his hair. "You're a frigid girl, I get it. Either that... or you're a raging lesbian," he muttered, turning away. "You're not my type, anyway. The only fuck-worthy thing about you is your voluptuous body. For that alone, I'll give you a soaring nine. You should be humbled. Most girls here, I give them at least a poor five in the looks department. A nine is a rarity."_

_"Oh, wow," I groaned in mock pleasure, placing my hands over my chest. "A nine? Oh, that is awfully kind of you. I am so humbled that you think so much of me, especially when I'd give you a zero right on the spot. But I give you a one for being so kind." I laughed and shook my head at the unhappy expression that flitted across his face. __"Trust me, you are definitely not my type neither," I shot back quickly in defense for myself. "In fact, I find you downright revolting. Everything about you. I don't even know you at all, but already... I can see that you're pretty gross."_

_"Maybe if you let me kiss you, your opinion would change of me," he offered, sounding extremely eager. "You might find you enjoy it. I might surprise you."_

_"Yeah, but you'd be risking getting my vomit all over you. I have excellent gag reflexes, and you nauseate me. I can't just shut it off at the drop of a hat."_

_ We stared at each other for a moment uncomfortably. He looked as if he was considering in silence doing it anyway, which unsettled me deeply, before he gave a final shrug and climbed to his feet. "Suit yourself, and no, thank you. I think I'll pass, then."_

_"Good, because I think I'm near enough about ready to vomit already. Don't come any closer."_

_He shook his head down at me disgust, swore underneath his breath- something about me being a lesbo- and left. And so, that was where the infamous 'Sookie Stackhouse Is A Lesbian' rumour began, I'm presuming. Maybe he was just that pissed off that I refused a kiss from him, that he made it his number one priority to get vengeance in spreading cruel things about me 'round the school yard. I had damaged his manly ego that day, and clearly he hadn't experienced being shot-down by a girl before. Obviously he hadn't known what to do about it, so he took the mean route. Still, that day I had felt very satisfied in deterring him and effectively putting the douche bag in his rightful place. __I had leaned back on my elbows, smiling to myself broadly. Well, that was satisfying. But sadly, even the threat of vomiting all over him wasn't enough to keep Eric Northman at bay for too long..._

* * *

_I heard it around the school that Jason was lounging around in the sick-bay. Something about a fight with Eric Northman. After a few hours of non-stop worrying, I decided to go investigate. _

_"Show me your face," I told him fiercely. "Go on."_

_A little on the reluctant side because he was worried what I'd think, Jason turned his head. I almost gasped. There was a massive swollen bruise on his cheek, and his nose was caked with dry blood._

_"Oh, Jason," I sighed sadly._

_"It don't hurt as bad as it looks," he informed me dismissively. The pair of us could see it was a pitiful lie; He could hardly move, he was in so much pain._

_"Eric Northman did this to you?" I felt such rage then. I felt I could have murdered him. How dare he hurt my brother?_

_"Yeah, he did. But don't worry, Sook. I got a mean right hook on him," he told me proudly._

_"I certainly hope so. That guy is a major douche bag if I ever saw one. He could do well by it."_

_"Tell me about it," he grumbled, nodding. "Hey, Sook?" he started nervously. "You're not a, um... you know, a lesbian, are you?"_

_"What? No!" I was appalled my brother could even ask such a thing. "Where on earth did that come from?"_

_"Just from that Northman. He was tellin' all the boys that you were one."_

_"Well, I'm not," I whispered defensively. My head whirled in fury. "Where is he, anyhow?"_

_But Jason had answered all too quickly, and carelessly. "Out in the yard. Probably crying his heart out over my mean right hook."_

_"He's gonna be sorry, I swear!"_

_"Oh, Sook," he gasped, agitated. Jason could tell by my voice just what I had planned in store for Eric Northman. He grabbed my hand, pleading with me. "Don't be starting anything, please!"_

_"Why shouldn't I?" I crossed my arms over my chest. "I mean, a girl's got to defend herself, right? I'm gonna put him in his place. He won't even know what he's unleashed. I'm gonna give him so much hell for this!" And that, I was storming out of the sick-bay, with one thing on my mind. _

_Payback._

_Jason ran after me. "Sookie, no. Don't!"_

_I ignored him and stalked out into the yard. There was a whole group of them. But surely they knew not to hurt a girl, right? Jason was right on my tail fretfully, prepared to defend his little sister, if need be._

_ "Hey boys. How you-all going?" Just like that, all the boys in the group fell silent. Some gave me awkward 'Hello's'. Others just exchanged nervous look with each other. My eyes went straight to Eric Northman, who was sitting on the grass, chewing down on an apple. Jason was, in fact, right; It was a pretty mean hook. He got this Eric Northman square in the mouth. Dry blood was oozing out from a split lip. Served him right, seriously._

_"I think you got something to say to me," I said meaningfully, setting my hands on my hips._

_He stopped, mid-chew on his apple, and peered up at me, perplexed. "Do I now?"_

_"Yeah, I believe you do."_

_He looked deliberately contemplative for a second, before he shrugged, and dabbed at his lip with the back of his hand. "Well, you're mistaken."_

_"I know I'm not. I know you got something to say, so you can say it to my face. Didn't your Mama teach you any decent manners?"_

_There was a chorus of soft 'oohing' noises from all the boys around him. One of them pretended to nurse his heart. What the hell was this all about?_

_This Eric Northman had the heart to look a bit offended himself. "I wouldn't know. My Mama's dead, Stackhouse." He flung his half-eaten apple at the dirt. I winced at my slip-up, but how was I meant to know that?_

_"Oh. Well, I'm sorry about that." I felt truly terrible then. "But so is my Mama. My Daddy, too. Yet, you don't see me telling lies about other people, do you?"_

_"Well, aren't you a diamond in the rough? Is this going somewhere? Can you hurry it up?" _

_"Just if you can't say nothing nice, then don't bother saying anything at all, all right?" I didn't bother waiting for him to apologize or anything. I strode off with a very keyed-up Jason jogging at my side._

_ "Jesus, Sookie." He laughed out loud in amazement."You really handled yourself back there!"_

_"Well, that's what a girl's good for."_

_It had felt amazing at the time, standing up for myself to a whole group of guys. But, like most of the time, I hadn't thought of the consequences of my actions... He was punctual, which told me it was something he was aching to do all afternoon. He was waiting for me in the hallway soon as the bell for end of school rang out; resting a shoulder against the locker directly next to mine, his eyes glued to me. That told me he somehow knew where my locker was. It also made me wary of him even more than I initially was. Could anyone say creepy stalker? He stared at me, gauging my reaction to him standing there waiting. I almost considered turning around and fleeing. He was very intimidating; The height, the careless stance. Everything. I paused for a moment, trying to understand my feelings on this. The overriding feeling I felt inside, beside the dread, was anger. _

_Huffing out a breath, I tried to ignore him best I could, with opening my locker and not paying him even the slightest bit of attention- which no doubt he wanted. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't exactly want to look at him and give him the satisfaction he was seeking. _

_"Three letters. One word. Say it, Stackhouse."_

_"Say what?"_

_"Yes. The answer to all your dreams."_

_"Oh, really?" For the first time, I allowed myself to look at him. I eyed him dubiously. "And what dreams would that be?"_

_"To going out on a date with me. Most girls in your grade can only dream of this. But for you, I'll make an allowance."_

_I made a loud gagging noise, slamming my locker shut. "I would never want to go on a date with you."_

_He shrugged. "Either way, you owe me."_

_"Owe you?" I whispered, in disbelief. "Where did you get that logic?"_

_"You taunted me over my deceased mother. Some might consider that very rude."_

_"But I never knew that about your Mama," I said, outraged. "I don't even know you. It wasn't deliberate, so why do I owe you over something I didn't know in the first place?"_

_ "Go out on a date with me, Stackhouse."_

_"Maybe I will, if you say what you ought to have said to me today." I wasn't really considering actually going out with him. Not even a little bit, but he didn't know that._

_"And what is that?" he asked cluelessly._

_"Five letters. One word. Say it to me."_

_"I don't even know what the fuck it is!"_

_"Tell me you're sorry," I demanded stubbornly. "Sorry. Sorry for lying and telling all the boys I'm a lesbian. Say it."_

_"But you are. Why would I apologize over something that's the truth?"_

_My blood was boiling. "I am not a lesbian." _

_"Yes, you are."_

_"I'm not!"_

_"You don't have eyes for any of the other boys," he said, sounding so sure of himself. _

_"Like I said, you don't even know me."_

_"I know enough to know that you only have eyes for me," he stated confidently. My head throbbed in annoyance. _

_"You are delusional." No other way to put it._

_"You will only have eyes for me. I could have you anytime, anywhere."_

_I rolled my eyes, feeling my teeth clench in distaste. "Yeah, you keep on telling yourself that."_

_"I don't need to, because it is the obvious fucking truth." He grabbed me suddenly, yanking me up against him, one hand firmly on my back holding me into him. The other was making a move straight to the back of my hair. He was unbelievable. _

_"Gross," I whispered, reeling. But really, when a guy was so forward like he had been that day- how could a girl possibly find that gross? _Maybe I had fooled myself all along. Maybe Pam was right? Maybe it was flirting? But it was strange flirting, one I automatically took for meanness.


End file.
